


thunder and rain

by stardustandfantasies



Category: Padz and Friends (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 10:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15639129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustandfantasies/pseuds/stardustandfantasies
Summary: "I was just wondering what if we had a child.""We already have Gabriel.""But don't you want to pass on your amazing genes?"





	thunder and rain

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own PAF. Title is from Mika ft. Chiara - Stardust which doesn't have anything to do with this fic but, idk why, reminds me of them.
> 
> In this AU, Keenan is 28, Ursula is 34, Martin is 30, Julian is 20, Lionel is 19, and Gabriel is 10.

"I was just wondering," Keenan said slowly, after Ursula asked why he had been uncharacteristically quiet that evening, "what if we had a child."

She raised her expertly crafted eyebrows.

"We already have Gabriel."

One of the things he appreciated the most from her was that she got along with his brothers. She adored Martin so much that sometimes it bothered him (she'd always laugh and say that he's cute when he's jealous, and he'd insisted that no, he's not, she's just being hateful as usual). She was on friendly terms with Julian, who did have the ability to hold a conversation with anyone, from energetic kindergartners to elderly churchgoers. She treated Lionel's brooding seriousness with respect, never teasing him the way his brother did, even defending him on occasions. But she loved and doted on Gabriel the way he did, probably even more.

The affection was well reciprocated. She once commented on how very fitting Gabriel's name was—the angel who proclaimed good news. Not true, of course (Keenan had seen the worst of his baby brother's devilish side), but Gabriel did behave in a very cherubic manner towards her. He had an innate talent to suck up to people, like most people who are the youngest child in their family.

He was initially afraid that she would not get along with his favourite brother, as she disliked children in general. She would smile very sweetly at them and talk to them with an equal sweetness that he knew was too sweet to be genuine, although most people couldn't tell it. And she had not reacted well when he told her that he had four siblings, the youngest being a baby brother who was born when he's eighteen. He supposed that she'd wanted to say something about his parents being crazy (he didn't completely disagree with that—a shotgun marriage with five sons, with a span of two decades between the oldest and the youngest?), but held her peace, knowing that his family mattered a lot to him.

But when he introduced her to his family, Gabriel was the first one to accept her. His parents and brothers initially gave her a reluctant and tentative welcome (as expected; he's bringing home a woman six years his senior anyway). Except Gabriel, barely eight years old then, who had convinced their mother to let him bring her home because he's so excited to see the girl whom his favourite brother had wanted to marry.

When he finally saw her, he stared at her, eyes bright with childish wonder, before telling her, "You're very pretty."

"Manners, Gabriel," he chided his brother fondly. "Introduce yourself first."

"Sorry," the boy grinned sheepishly. He hold out his hand. "Hello, my name is Gabriel."

"Hello, Gabriel." She bent so the boy could shake her hand and their eyes could meet. He noticed that she sounded gentler and more genuine than the tone she usually adopted when talking to kids. "I'm Ursula."

"So are you going to marry him?" Gabriel demanded, pointing at his favourite brother.

She smiled. "Maybe, if he asks me to."

To his surprise, she gave him a teasing nudge.

Gabriel beamed. He turned to his older brother and demanded, "You should do it!"

For the rest of the visit, she charmed his family with her poise and sophistication, but Gabriel's open-hearted acceptance charmed her first.

"It's different," he said out loud, snapping himself out of the memory. "He's my little brother."

"We've been having him over at our place, taking him on vacations, buying him things. Soon your parents would retire and they may appoint you as his guardian," she pointed out. "And we're old enough to be his parents anyway."

He's twenty-eight and she's thirty-four; Gabriel was almost ten. His mother, who's thirty-three when he himself was eleven, had had four children at her age and she had none.

"You're right." He decided to not bring it up. "But it's still different."

"Keenan, my dear—" neither of them was fond of terms of endearment, but both reserved an arsenal of the most sickeningly sweet and overused ones to be deployed whenever a war was looming between them, "—I agreed to marry you not because I wanted to bear your children."

"No, of course not." He was the one who had the idea of marriage anyway.

She had not wanted it. It was only after extensive discussions, sometimes heated arguments, that episode with Gabriel and subsequent visits to his family, and coaxing and pleading (he's willing to lower his pride for this—the things he'd do for her) that he had finally managed to convince her that marriage was more than a contract that conservatives used as a justification for having sex.

But her acquiescence had terms and conditions, with not having any child clearly stated as one of its main demands. It had broken his heart a little—he had always wanted a family on his own, to come home to and love and protect—but not so much that the deal was still made and they got married a year after, with Martin as the priest at the holy matrimony (perhaps another reason why she accepted his proposal).

Seeing that he's become pensive, her expression softened. "I know you want it. But it's cruel to condemn a child to have two parents who are married to their job more so than they're married to each other."

"I know," he admitted. 

He also knew that she knew this, better than he did, because she had been that child herself. Not many people shared the blessing of having parents who gave their children material, emotional, and spiritual security. Some parents could only provide the first one, often lavishly with lofty demands as the icing, while they starved their children of their touch and time.

"Why are we talking about this, anyway?" She asked. "I thought we already had a conversation."

They have had several, actually. Every time they did, she had vehemently held to her reasons and added some new ones. She was not good with kids (not true; case in point: Gabriel). Liking kids doesn't necessarily guarantee that someone would like parenting (maybe; although his experience of looking after three rambunctious younger brothers might say something). They would not have the time to care for a child (true; he did feel guilty just thinking of bringing a baby into the world only to neglect it).

"My mom called, and that thought crossed my mind."

Every time, he had to accept that it's just not possible. Not necessarily because he agreed but because he got too tired to argue. And because he wondered if, buried under that hoard of excuses and fiercely guarded by her sophisticated inscrutability, there's a fear of becoming like her parents—perhaps the same fear that drove her to resist his (and before his, other people's) marriage proposals.

"If it's because your parents want grandchildren, tell them they can wait, they still have three sons."

"That's what I did."

He loved her still, in spite of, because.

That didn't stop him from asking one more question:

"But don't you want to pass on your amazing genes?"


End file.
